


Duckling

by blissfullylostinarabbithole



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, alludes to missing/deceased child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23886646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissfullylostinarabbithole/pseuds/blissfullylostinarabbithole
Summary: If anyone in Beacon Hills had been asked about you, they’d have said you had a nearly perfect life. You had a doting father, a sister you adored, a handsome boyfriend, and the best friends anyone could ever ask for.Your little bubble of happiness is threatened when a new family moves into town.
Relationships: Avengers & Reader, Derek Hale/Reader, teen wolf & reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

“I can’t believe this, why would you do this?!”

When Peggy was offered the position of headmistress at a prestigious military academy across the country, she readily accepted. She knew Steve was going to be angry, but she couldn’t take being in the city any longer. It wasn’t good for them, and worse, it wasn’t good for their daughter Natasha.

“Because we need it, Steve! The children need it!”

“We decide what our children need! Not you, not me, us!”

“I’ve tried talking to you! You never listen!”

There was knocking on their front door, temporarily pausing their argument. Steve winced, already knowing who was on the other side and why. He cast an apologetic look toward his wife, who looked just as sheepish as he did.

He opened the door, revealing his scowling best friend. “Hey, Buck.”

“Hey. I was wondering if the kids wanted to go get some ice cream or somethin’.”

They hated arguing in front of the kids, but when the shouting matches began, it was sometimes difficult to remember they were in the house. Bucky was a blessing in their lives in that aspect, quickly removing them from the environment until he and Peggy could sort themselves out.

“Children!” Peggy called. “Uncle Bucky’s taking you for ice cream!”

Immediately, three sets of feet ran down the hall and into the living room.

“Ice cream!” Wanda squealed, clutching her stuffed lion in her arms. 

“Hey, Chipmunks!” Bucky scooped the twins up into his arms, and sent Peter a comforting smile.

“Where’s Nat?” Steve asked, eyes still on the doorway.

“She went out the fire escape,” Peter said as he put on his coat.

Peggy looked down at her feet, and Steve sighed. 

Bucky guessed that was only going to add fuel to the fire, so he offered to take the kids to the park as well if they needed, and asked for them to call when it was quiet. Steve watched them disappear into the elevator, knowing it would resume at any moment.

“Steve!” 

“Peggy.”

“We need to talk about this!”

“No! I’m not doing this now!”

“When then?” she demanded. “When Nat’s been through every school in the state? When not even Tony’s lawyers can keep her out of handcuffs anymore? When will you be ready to talk about it?!” He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, silently waiting for her to continue. “I can’t be here anymore! I know you want to stay in case…” She could see the tears begin to form in his eyes, and her own followed suit. “It’s been twelve years, Darling. We’re not going to find her.”

“What if she remembers?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “What if she comes looking and we’re not here?”

“If she’s even,” alive, she thinks, though she can’t bear to say it aloud.

“Don’t think that!” 

“It’s hard not to!”

“I know.” Steve crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her. “But we need to believe she’s ok.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m worried about Nat.” She paused, waiting to see if he would argue. When all he did was pull back, she continued. “These friends of hers are nothing but trouble. She’s already been expelled from eight schools, and arrested twice.”

“Bad crowds are everywhere,” he reasoned. “It doesn’t matter where we are, where we go, if she chooses to get mixed up with troublemakers.”

“She feels guilty, Steve.”

“And she’ll continue to no matter where she is.”

Peggy huffed, detaching herself from Steve’s embrace. “She can’t move on. I can’t move on. Not while we live here.”

“You want to give up our memories?”

It was the first time in a long time she’d been able to voice her concerns. She could tell he was about to start shouting again, and that was the last thing she wanted if she wanted him to listen.

“We’ll always have those memories. I just want the chance to see our family thrive, and not dwell on what we’ve lost. Everything here is a constant reminder of our loss. It’s hurting our marriage, and it’s hurting our daughter. Please, Steve.”

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He’d held on to the hope their family could be complete once again, and he’d ignored what it was doing to his wife and child. “You said out of state. Where is this job?”

“California,” she replied hesitantly. “I saw pictures of it and it’s lovely. Just think: fresh air, hikes in the woods, camping by the lake. We could have a big house, with a large garden. The children can have their own rooms, and we can get that dog Peter’s always begging for.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know, Peg…” 

Though he was still unconvinced, his lack of outright refusal encouraged her to continue. “The children will attend the academy. For free. You and Bucky could finally open that wilderness store you always talked about.”

That caught his attention. “Bucky?” He relied on them just as much as they relied on him, and he didn’t want to think how he would cope if they moved away. 

“Of course.” She wrapped his arms around him again, nestling her chin on his chest. “When I married you, I knew exactly what I was getting. He’s a part of this family, and I’ll drag him, kicking and screaming if I have to, wherever we go.” 

The image made him chuckle, and he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “You won’t have to. He lives for the kids. He won’t argue.”

“Wait, do you mean…?”

“I’ll think about it.” She pulled the collar of his shirt, reaching for his lips for a kiss. “On one condition.”

She froze. “What is it?”

“If we go, I want a room for her in this new house. If we ever do find her, I want her to know she’s never been forgotten; that we always had hope she’d come back to us.”

“Deal.” They smiled at each other, and sealed their deal with a kiss.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was your sister’s turn to choose what you’d have for dinner that evening, and she’d asked for grilled cheese sandwiches. Your dad set the plate piled with sandwiches on the table, and you began to eat.

“Mmm Daddy, these are suuuuper yummy!”

He smiled a placed a kiss on her temple, and he turned to you. With a mouth full of grilled cheese, you nodded your approval as he chuckled.

“So tell me,” he began, reaching for another sandwich. “Am I going to hear good things at this parent-teacher thing tonight?”

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water to help you swallow, smirking. “I mean, not exclusively, but yeah.” Your dad scoffed, shaking his head in amusement. “Mr. Harris hates everyone, so I doubt he’s going to have anything good to say about anyone,” you defended. “Coach will have some nice things to say, though!”

“I’m sure,” he mused sarcastically.

“The point is, my grades are fine. He’s just an ass.”

He checked the clock, and stood from the table. “Time to get ready for bed.”

“Daddy, can I stay up tonight?” Your sister turned up the puppy eyes, and your dad had to turn away quickly if he wanted to avoid falling into their trap.

“It’s a school night, Peanut. You need your rest. Besides, you don’t want to cramp your sister’s style by hanging out with the big kids, do you?”

“Yes.”

You snorted, picking up the plates to put in the sink. He sent her off to her bath, and you could tell he felt bad as she frowned all the way up the stairs. You finished the dishes, and your dad left for the conference as you headed upstairs to help your sister.

“You have everything ready for tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, climbing into bed. “Do I cramp your style?”

You giggled and tried to rub out the little frown lines off her forehead. “Do you even know what that means?”

“No,” she admitted. “What’s it mean?”

“It means to make someone look uncool.”

“I’m cool!”

“I know. It’s just sometimes, when families have more than one kid, some parents make the older brothers and sisters watch the younger ones. Say they want to go to the movies with their friends, but then their parents say they have to take the little ones with them. If the little ones are bratty or like to wander off, then the older ones feel like they can’t have fun because they have to babysit. And, that can make the kids fight, even as adults.” You brushed the hair from her face and hoped she understood. “Dad doesn’t want us to turn out like that.”

She nodded, but began to frown again. “I’m not bratty, though. And I don’t wander.”

“I know,” you grinned, kissing her forehead. “That’s why you don’t cramp my style.”

She stood up on the bed and wrapped her arms around your neck. “So can I stay up?”

You watched her, her smile growing as you considered it. “Fine,” you sighed. “Twenty minutes, then straight to bed with no complaints. Got it?”

“Got it!”

Stiles had his own key to your place, so you knew your friends had arrived when you started hearing noises coming from downstairs. You took your sister in your arms and hurried to greet your friends, settling in for your movie night. 

Twenty minutes into the movie, you looked over and found her already asleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Wow.” Steve stared out the window in awe as they drove to the academy.

Peggy sent him a playfully smug grin. “I told you it was lovely.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled. “I haven’t made up my mind, but I think the kids would love it here.”

They reached the school and were met by the retiring headmaster. He welcomed them warmly, went over the general details of the job, as well as what they can expect regarding the admission of their children. He took them on a tour, stopping midway for a snack at the mess hall, and ended at the athletics department.

Steve watched the students training on the field, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

“Does it bring back memories?” the headmaster asked.

“Yeah, of a disrespectful recruit getting punched in the face.” He and Peggy began to giggle, while the headmaster looked horrified. 

“I assure you, that while we take discipline very seriously, we do not resort to striking our cadets.”

While Peggy explained they understood, and didn’t mean to imply anything of the sort, Steve’s eyes scanned the rest of the area, impressed with the grace and determination he saw on everyone on the field.

“How’s the baseball team?”

“Well,” the headmaster looked a bit embarrassed. “We’ve come close to the championship many times, but have not been victorious in several years. Beacon Academy excels in football, archery, and swimming, but if it’s baseball you want, our neighbor Beacon Hills High has an exceptional team.”

They concluded their tour and began the application process for each of the kids, ‘just in case,’ Steve had said, then got into their rental to meet up with their realtor.

“Sam!” Steve greeted with a wide grin.

“Hey, Cap!” They hugged, and he turned to Peggy for a hug as well. “How the hell did you get this guy to agree to leave his beloved Brooklyn?”

She chuckled, linking her finger’s with Steve’s. “It’s still up in the air, at the moment.”

Sam knew better than anyone how hard their loss had been on their family, so he kept quiet on the matter and got down to business. 

“Alright, I gotta warn you, not all of these places are as big as you’d like, but they have potential for easy remodeling and expansion since not everyone’s living on top of each other out here.”

It took almost all of their three day trip to see all the homes, but they lucked out with the first place Sam showed them for their shop location. 

The building was large and in need of a lot of work, but it wasn’t a problem. Sam even offered to take some time off to help them clean the place up. The best part was it was just off the main road, one of the last stops before heading into protected territory. Any last minute purchases or equipment replacements would have to be done there. It was perfect.

They’d only been back in New York a week when they got the call that their offer had been accepted, and with renewed energy, began to look over the photos of the houses they toured again. Suddenly, a lot of them seemed much more suitable than they remembered.

“Thank you, Darling,” Peggy whispered, nuzzling into him.

Steve wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. His heart still ached, feeling like he was saying goodbye; giving up for good. But once he’d seen what it was like, he knew it was the right move for their family.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader’s caught in an awkward situation, and the Rogers’ family run into some trouble.

With the limited space they had in their apartment back in New York, they found themselves with much more house than they had to fill, and that was with the inclusion of Bucky’s things. 

All their friends had come to help them unpack so they could settle in faster. Peggy was due to begin work two days after their arrival, so they appreciated all the help they could get. Because of all the work they still had to do on the house and their future shop, they didn’t have the time to plan a proper housewarming, so Steve decided a cookout was the least he could do to say thank you to everyone who came to help. He was also itching to try out the new grill Tony had gifted them. 

It didn’t take them long to find a grocery store, and just as Steve was about to get out, a black car playing too loud rock music pulled up abruptly beside them. The driver cast them a quick glance before rolling up the windows and exiting towards the store. 

“Buck,” Steve whispered. “That’s the guy.”

Bucky took one look at him and groaned. “Of course it is.”

“What about him?” Sam asked.

“Nat tried to flirt with him a couple days ago,” Steve grumbled. “Wrote her number on a napkin and said she’d like to be shown around town. When she walked away, he threw it in the garbage.”

“So what’s the problem? He looks like bad news.”

“Thank you!” Bucky exclaimed. “The last thing she needs is to get involved with another gel-haired, leather-clad, camaro-driving prick.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, “but it still hurt to see her rejected. She’s been checking her phone every few minutes since.”

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky shrugged. “C’mon, I’m startin’ to get hungry.”

The three entered the store and each grabbed a cart, filling it with everything they needed to feed their guests. When they reached the snack aisle, they found the same guy, scowling as he scanned the shelves. 

Steve couldn’t help but give him a disapproving look. Feeling eyes on him, the guy looked over, seemingly unbothered by the three large, older men staring, and raised his brows as if asking if there was a problem.

“Derek?” an employee nervously called as she scurried past them. “Is there something you need help with?”

It was Bucky’s turn to be offended when he dismissed them as he asked the clerk about the empty spot on the shelf. “Geez, the attitude on kids these days, I swear.”

“I don’t like the way that woman’s tense around him.”

Sam snickered. “Maybe you should thank him, then. At least you won’t have to worry about him being around Nat.”

The employee had rushed off, and the ‘Derek’ guy continued to put various snacks into his basket. Sam started grabbing bags of chips and cookies, knowing the other two were just going to try to stare holes into the boy’s head. When he started leading them away, the guy turned back toward them and met Bucky’s glare head on with one of his own. 

They went to the checkout, and he got in line right behind them. The cashier cursed under his breath, casting a wary eye toward Derek, making them like the guy even less. Steve caught movement out the corner of his eye, and he found the bagging girl blushing and trying to fix her hair. 

“Derek?” All their attentions were back on him now as the nervous employee returned. “Here are the chips you wanted. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Thanks.” He began to set his own things on the belt, ignoring them again.

Steve paid for the groceries while Sam and Bucky bagged, leaving the girl free to bag Derek’s items. She stiffened when he approached, holding his bags out to him.

“H-hi, Derek,” she smiled.

“Hey.”

“Party?”

“Hm?” She gestured toward his items, which were mostly junk food. “Oh, no,” he replied flatly.

“Right. You’d need loads more if it were for a party.” Steve, Sam, and Bucky felt the embarrassment radiating off her. “Anyway, good luck at the game tonight!”

He nodded, giving her a quick thanks before taking his bags and walking out. The girl sighed, watching him leave. The three exchanged incredulous looks and walked out, the car driving away as they arrived to their own.

Bucky scoffed as the others shook their heads. “Prick.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Y/N!” your father’s voice called from downstairs. You groaned, pulling the covers up over your head. You were almost back to sleep when a hand shook you awake. “Hey, Nugget!”

You sat up, sending a glare to your father that only made him grin. “What?!”

“I’m running late. Could you drop your sister off at school?”

“Yeah, ok.”

“I left the money under her pillow. Oh, and I need you to take care of breakfast for her, too.”

“Dad,” you stifled a yawn. “How are you late if you didn’t make breakfast and you’re not taking Cassie to school?”

“I forgot I have a meeting this morning…and I overslept,” he admitted. “Much like you’re about to. Long night? Morning, Derek!”

Your eyes flew open, and you suddenly weren’t so sleepy. “Dad!”

“Save it,” he said, buttoning up his shirt. “Though next time, you might want to hide your gigantic boots as well!”

Derek emerged from your closet then, his red tinted ears the only sign of his embarrassment. “Good morning, Mr. Lang.”

“Hey. Sleep well? Good. You,” he turned back to you, “we’re talking about this later. Have a good day at school!” 

You both stayed silent, listening to your father’s steps as he went down the stairs and out the front door. When you heard his car drive away, you groaned and buried your face into your pillow.

“I’m dead.”

“No you’re not,” Derek chuckled and climbed in beside you. “Scott’s the nicest guy in the world.”

You turned onto your back and started running your finger over his stubbled cheek. God you loved when he smiled. Part of you wished he’d do it more often, but the more selfish part of you was glad his smile was something like a well guarded secret. 

“Yeah, but he hasn’t caught us like this before.”

“You worry too much,” he sighed, kissing your forehead. “It’s not like we did anything but study anyway. We have nothing to hide.”

“He doesn’t know that, though. He probably thinks we did everything but study.”

He laughed, and the sound made you practically purr. “He saw you like this, right? In yesterday’s clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“I think we’re in the clear then.” He got off the bed and started putting on his boots. “Get up. You have to get the walnut ready.”

“Alright,” you snorted, amused by his nickname for Cassie. “I’ll bring you breakfast.”

He graced you with another one of his brilliant smiles before kissing you and wishing you luck with your sister. You walked him to the front door, a nice change to having him sneak back out the window, and watched him walk around the corner where he’d parked his car.

You ran up the stairs and into Cassie’s room, launching yourself on the bed. “Wake up, sleepyhead!” She bolted up and scowled at you, making you laugh. “Guess who’s taking you to school today?”

“In Honeybee?”

  
“Yup!” She loved your car, and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. “Did you have a visitor last night?”

She gasped and threw her pillow to the floor, her face lighting up. “The Tooth Fairy!” She waved a five dollar bill, her smile showing off her increasing gap.

“Wow! You’re rich! What are you gonna do with all that money?”

“Candy!”

“Alright!” You gave her a high five, approving of her decision. “We’ll stop by the candy shop after school, ok? But right now you have to brush what’s left of your teeth and get ready.”

“Aww.”

“I know, Peanut, but we gotta go and we gotta go now.”

You ushered her out the door and into your shared bathroom and began to prepare for the long day ahead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Pietro whined for the third time that night. 

“We gotta wait for Tasha,” Wanda scolded, imitating their mother.

“Sweetheart, remember what we talked about?” 

“We gotta wait for Nattie,” she amended. “Sorry, Mummy.”

Peter looked down at his plate, turning pink at the memory of the time he’d accidentally called her ‘Tasha’. She’d flipped out on him, and he had no clue why, only being told she didn’t like being called that.

Still, Wanda had thought the name sounded pretty, and it would occasionally slip from her own mouth. Luckily, it was never in her sister’s presence.

“Alright, I don’t think she’s coming,” Steve sighed. 

One by one, they began to eat their dinner in silence. It had only been a few weeks since they moved in, but it seemed Natasha wasted no time in finding a way to continue on as she did in New York.

When Peggy had put the twins to bed, she returned to the kitchen to help Steve clean up. Peter was at the table finishing his homework, and Bucky was helping him. 

There was a knock at the door, and Peggy groaned, already suspecting what had happened. Steve rubbed her back, telling her he’d take care of it. He didn’t bother hiding his disappointment when he opened the door.

“You Steve Rogers?” the officer asked, his hand wrapped firmly around Natasha’s arm.

“Yeah.”

“Is this your daughter?” 

“Yes, she is.”

The officer let her go, and she pushed past Steve and ran upstairs. Peter flinched when he heard her bedroom door slam shut.

“I’m sorry we had to meet like this. I’m Noah Stilinski. I’m the sheriff.”

Steve shook his hand and invited him in, introducing him to Peggy, Bucky, and Peter. 

“What happened tonight?” he asked.

Peter tried to listen, but Bucky advised he finish his homework. 

“…trespassing on private property and vandalism. The structure isn’t safe, even less so when there’s drinking involved.”

“Were they driving around like that?” Peggy asked.

“Didn’t seem that way, not yet at least. Look, I didn’t want to bring her down to the station, seeing as you’re new in town. That Rumlow kid she’s taken up with isn’t going to do her any favors. I know it’s hard to reach them, especially at this age, but I talked to her a bit. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. A guy like Brock’s just gonna drag her down.”

“Well, we appreciate you bringing her home,” Steve said. “And we’ll definitely be having a talk with her.”

“I hope it works,” Noah said, shaking their hands again. “Good luck, and welcome to Beacon Hills.”

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

“Stiles!” The boy jumped, his mouth full of food. “Stop eating all the curly fries!”

“‘M hngr!”

You giggled as he struggled to communicate through all the potato. “Could you ask Scott to make me some chicken tenders and new curlies, please.”

Finally, he swallowed. “Woman, do you see anyone else behind this counter?”

You had just walked in and settled your sister into the nearest booth, so you hadn’t had much of a chance to look around yet. “Where is everyone?”

“Lydia had an appointment with the school shrink, Scott and Allison are still in the parking lot PROBABLY MAKING OUT!” he shouted out the drive through window. “And Isaac is just MIA.”

You looked around the dining area, and except for Cassie, it was empty. “Hey, Cass? I need to go into the kitchen real quick, alright?”

“Ok,” her little voice squeaked. 

You rushed into the kitchen and loaded one fryer with chicken strips and another with fries and put them in the oil. It would be a few minutes, so you started to load ice cream into the blender for a small milkshake.

Scott came in, looking apologetic, and resumed looking over the food. You passed Allison on the way to give Cassie her shake, and she grinned at you with a blush.

“Strips and fries!” Scott called. 

You grabbed some sauce cups along with the plate, and set them on your sister’s table. “You know the drill?”

“Eat, wash hands, then homework,” she recited proudly.

You kissed the top of her head and left her to her meal. It wasn’t often you had to take Cassie to work with you, but she was a great kid and your friends loved her, so you didn’t mind.

“Welcome to Argent’s,” you heard Stiles say from the window. “What can we get for you today?”

The list of food grew longer, as did Allison’s concern for Scott, and she asked if you could watch the counter for her while she helped him in the kitchen. Stiles covered the mic, saying she’d better have meant help him with the food, causing everyone to laugh. 

A group of students from the academy came in, taking a seat at one of the booths. You grabbed some menus and walked over to them, ready to take their orders. As you were pouring their drinks, a man walked up to the counter and looked around for someone to help him.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, sir.” Thankfully, the students still needed a few minutes to decide what they wanted, and you were able to help the man at the counter. Isaac showed just as you were about to return to the student’s table, and you noticed he was walking a bit slower than usual. “You alright?” you whispered. “You need to sit?”

“I’m fine.” 

His pained expression told you he wasn’t, but you knew him well enough to know he didn’t want to be fussed over. So you nodded and told him to take it easy, and you were joined by Allison again when he disappeared into the kitchen. 

It wasn’t long before Lydia ran in, looking flushed. “Oh my god, have you seen the guy at the window?”

“Stiles?” Allison asked.

She rolled her eyes. “The customer!”

You and Allison tried to look past Stiles, but the bags of food were in the way and the man drove away right after.

“What about him?”

“He was gorgeous!”

“Who was gorgeous?” Stiles asked, approaching the counter.

“The guy at the window, apparently,” Allison shrugged.

“Pfft, he was maybe ok,” Stiles scoffed. “If big, blond, and blue-eyed are your type.”

Lydia let out a dreamy sigh and went to attend a new group who entered the diner. You flashed him sympathetic smile before checking up on your own guests, and you heard Allison tell him she was partial to brown eyes herself.

Once the academy students left, and there weren’t any more guests for you to deal with, you pulled out your own homework and sat across from your sister. Little by little, in between your own duties and helping your friends when they needed it, you finished up and were able to sneak into the small arcade area in the back with Cassie.

She loved the driving game the most, insisting it was good practice for when she was old enough to drive Honeybee.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Steve was glad Bucky was right; Natasha had taken Derek’s rebuff in stride. What he wasn’t glad of, was that she’d latched onto another gel-haired, leather-clad, camaro-driving prick.

“Hey, Brock,” she answered the phone, unceremoniously dropping her paint roller. “Yeah, sounds fun.” Sam rolled his eyes, and Steve set his own roller down. “Alright, see you later.”

Without a word, she began to remove her paint splattered coverall, clearly finished for the day.

“Nat? What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to a party with Brock. I have to get ready.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, his head aching enough as it was from the paint fumes. “I thought we agreed Saturdays were for fixing up the house and store.”

“No!” she snapped. “You _told_ me it was going to be that way, and never gave me another option!”

Peter and Bucky heard the shouting from the garage, and Bucky shook his head in annoyance. Noticing Peter getting distracted, he turned the radio on.

“Why does she hate us?”

“She doesn’t.”

“She sure acts like it.”

Bucky threw the wrench into his toolbox, wiping his hands with a rag. “Why don’t we take a break and see how she runs?”

They washed their hands, and while Peter was adjusting his helmet, Bucky sent Steve a quick text saying they were going for a ride. They climbed on his bike and took off with no destination in mind. After about fifteen minutes, they stopped by a creek just off the road, intending to take a few minutes to relax.

They’d been skipping stones, enjoying the sounds of nature, and the occasional passing car. Coming from the city, Peter had thought it would be quiet, and was surprised to find it wasn’t. Still, he liked the change of scenery, even if he still missed all his friends back home.

“Nat doesn’t hate you,” Bucky said, taking a seat on a large boulder. “She’s had it tough, and she’s got a lot of anger in her because of it. But, that’s got nothin’ to do with you.”

Peter approached slowly, taking a seat on the ground beside him. He looked like he wanted to say something, so Bucky stayed quiet, waiting. “Is it because we had another sister?”

Bucky only froze for a moment, then his jaw began to clench. “How do you know about her?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter blurted, seeing it was a touchy subject for Bucky as well. “I just… I remember. I mean, not _her_ , but I remember hearing mom and dad fighting about her.” He didn’t want to hurt Bucky more than he already had, but he needed to know why his family was the way they were. “What happened to her?”

He didn’t know what to do. He knew Steve and Peggy had their reasons for not telling the younger kids, but he was sure they would have told Peter had they realized he already knew a little. He didn’t like any of his godchildren being upset, so seeing Peter’s wide, pleading eyes, he relented.

“We lost her,” he said, his voice cracking. “Tony’d thrown a big party for Nat’s fifth birthday in Central Park. You were almost two, and you’d only come to live with them four months before, so you clung to your Ma like a little monkey. Your dad was handing out candy, and I was caught up with Sam. She’d been following Nat around, but when it was time to cut the cake, we couldn’t find her. She was only three. We looked everywhere, but…” he trailed off with a shuddering breath, unable to finish the thought.

“Oh. Did you call her after an animal, too?”

“Yeah.” Bucky chuckled then, but it was dry and humorless. “We never had to look far for her before that. She was always waddlin’ behind one of us, so I called her Duckling.”

They sat quietly, Bucky lost in a memory, and Peter pondering what life would’ve been like with another sister; how different Nat would be if nothing had happened at her party.

Bucky stood and gestured to Peter to follow him, indicating it was time they should be heading back. A blur of yellow sped down the road, and Peter tugged excitedly at Bucky’s sleeve.

“Bucky! Did you see? It was a Skylark!”

“I saw, Monkey,” he chuckled, using the nickname he hadn’t in ages. “I’ve seen it before. I think they live in town.”

“Awesome. Hey Bucky?” The man grunted, prompting him to continue. “California’s really different from New York, you know?”

“Right.”

“And well, I have all my birthday money saved up. I was thinking, what if… what if I get a car?”

Bucky smiled to himself. Peter considered himself a nerd because he loved science and technology, but he was pretty damn good with cars as a result. He loved spending time in the garage with Bucky, learning about whatever project he was working on.

“You’re too young to drive,” he said. “You still got about a year and half before you can even get your permit.”

“I know.” They’d reached the bike now, and Peter put on his helmet. “But what if I get one, a cool one, and then maybe we fix it up so when I can drive, I’ll have an awesome car?”

“You’re gonna have to talk to your folks about that. But I’ll tell ya what… When they ask my opinion, I’ll tell ‘em it’s a good idea. And I’ll help fix it nice.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!!” Peter hugged him, his face threatening to split at how wide he was smiling.

They returned home just in time to see Brock pull up. Peter scoffed when he honked, letting Nat know he was there instead of calling her or going to the door.

“I don’t like him.”

“I don’t either,” Bucky said. “But people just gotta make their own mistakes and learn from them the hard way.”

“But every guy’s been the same.”

“Yeah, well, your sister’s a slow learner.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Natasha slammed the front door and bolted toward the car. She hadn’t even put her seatbelt on before Brock sped away. 

“Where’s this party at?”

“Barton’s. Star archer at school,” he added at her blank expression.

She nodded, and was about to ask something else when he reached toward his stereo and turned it up. Her head slumped against the window as she stared out at the trees passing by. There was no convincing him to turn it down, she’d tried before, and it was even more impossible to get him to listen to anything else. The look on his face when he demanded to know what the hell she thought she was doing when she dared touch the knobs was still seared in her memory. 

It wasn’t long before they reached the party, and Brock held her arm to keep her from getting out. He smirked at her, reaching for the glove compartment. He took out a small bag filled with football shaped pills and placed one on his tongue. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and pulled her in for a kiss.

They walked into the party and went straight for the drinks. After a while of mingling, or rather, following Brock around, her mood began to improve.

“Brock, let’s go dance!” she pleaded. “I wanna dance!”

He chuckled, setting their drinks on the table. “Be back in a bit, boys!”

The longer they danced, the more everything around her seemed to disappear. She stared deeply into his eyes, and forgot everything that had ever caused her pain.

“I love you,” she breathed, and began to pepper kisses along his jaw. 

He grabbed her chin, holding her still so he could crash his lips against hers. He led them off the dance floor and onto the couch, not caring who they sat on. Their hands roamed, heightening their already increased arousal. They came up for breath, lips swollen and panting. 

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks, and then we’re gonna go upstairs.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer before taking off, leaving her feeling hollow for a moment. She looked around at everyone having fun, and her smile returned. The music filled her ears, and she felt her whole body hum with its energy. When the music was cut, she felt herself deflate.

“Turn it back on!” someone shouted, followed by others expressing agreement.

“What the hell, Barton?!” Brock shouted, making the people around him jump. “You invited mutts?!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” someone Nat assumed was the host asked. “Just enjoy the damn party!”

She pushed through the crowd, following the voices to see what was wrong.

“We’re hawks! You expect us to cavort with mongrels?!”

“ _He’s_ a hawk.” Nat saw a tall, skinny kid nod toward the host. “You’re just a dirty pigeon.”

She knew what was coming, and she knew she was never going to hear the end of it. Brock’s fist was half the size of the kid’s head, and it came down like a hammer on his face.

“Stiles!” a girl screamed as he hit the floor. 

Two more boys appeared, stepping in front of the one holding his face, and she knew it was time to leave. She tried to put distance between herself and Brock, but the crowd knit tighter, all wanting to watch the fight break out. 

“Move!”

The voice was commanding, and a portion of the crowd parted. Nat decided to take advantage of it and take the path, but stopped when she saw the approaching figure.

Her eyes widened and she began to shake. It felt like everything around her except the girl disappeared. Her chest moved, struggling to breathe, but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate. The girl drew closer, and though Nat was terrified of being seen, she couldn’t look away. Her eyes followed her, taking in every detail of her face, and everything she’d forgotten came rushing back. She choked out a sob, not knowing what she was going to do. The girl passed her without a glance, determined to get to the middle of the circle. When she was out of sight, Natasha ran through the house and out the first door she found. 

She’d found her breath coming short and shallow, becoming lightheaded. There was a fountain in the middle of the yard, and she stumbled over to it, sitting on the edge. She reached her hands into the water and brought them to her face, only caring about washing away what she hoped was nothing more than a cruel hallucination. Not wanting to be near Brock, and definitely not wanting to go back inside, she realized she had to call her family to pick her up. 

They’d know she was on something, but that wasn’t why she hesitated. She was afraid they’d see her. Her tears began to fall, and knowing she’d have to wait out the end of the party, made herself as comfortable as she could on a nearby bench. She closed her eyes in an attempt to block out what she’d seen, but it didn’t help.

When she opened them again, she was in a room, on a soft bed. Sitting up, she looked around, trying to recall what had happened. As the pieces began to come together, she started to feel sick. There was bucket placed beside the bed, and she fell to her knees over it to expel the contents of her stomach. She stayed in that position, holding back tears, until she stopped heaving. 

There was a rustling sound outside the door, and she slowly approached, unsure if she should let whoever was on the other side know she was up. A creaking floorboard gave her away.

“Good morning,” a voice called. “You ok in there?”

She opened the door, and there stood a boy. _The host_ , she realized. “Morning. What time is it?”

He set the bag he’d been collecting garbage in and checked his phone. “10:17.”

“AM or PM?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “AM. You must have been really wasted.”

“Yeah.” She turned back to the room, blushing when her eyes landed on the bucket. “Sorry, I…”

“It’s what it’s there for.” Though he smiled, his eyes showed concern. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you. I’m Clint.”

“Natasha.”

“Oh! You’re one of the new kids,” he mused. “Who’d you come with last night?”

She swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn’t just toss her out once she answered. “Brock Rumlow.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Well, he kinda took off last night after an altercation. Do you uh, do you need a ride or something?”

She stared at her feet, embarrassed for the first time to be associated with someone like Brock. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

He assured her it wasn’t, and guided her to the bathroom to wash up while he grabbed his wallet and his keys. She cringed at her reflection, feeling near mortified that Clint had seen her like this. She did her best to tame her hair with wet fingers, and washed the smudged makeup from her face. Since Clint didn’t have any spare toothbrushes she could have, she swirled some mouthwash to tide her over until she got home. Once she was somewhat presentable, she went downstairs. Clint offered her breakfast, but she declined, deciding she’d already taken up enough of his time.

“What happened last night?” she asked when they got in the car.

“I found you sleeping outside. I tried to wake you, but you were out of it,” he chuckled. “So I took you to the guest room.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, blushing again. “What happened with Brock?”

Clint sighed, and she didn’t miss the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened. 

“He started something with some of the Wolves’ lacrosse team.”

“Wolves?”

“From Beacon Hills High,” he clarified. “He’s just pissy because they let girls on the team last year and they still beat us for the championship.”

Any other day, she’d have laughed imagining the look on Brock’s face. She needed to know if what she saw was real, and now thanks to Clint, she had somewhere to start.

They reached her house and she thanked him, waiting until his car was out of sight before walking inside. She knew she was going to get an earful, but it didn’t matter. All she could think about was the excuse she’d have to make to skip school the following day so she could scope out the rival high school.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

She’d seen Clint around school a few times, but they rarely spoke. They never even exchanged anything but a smile and wave when Brock was around, and it seemed the only time they were able to speak, it was in passing on the way to something else. No one had found out she’d passed out and puked at his house, and she was grateful for that.

Brock had given her some half-assed apology for leaving her, and she’d forgiven him. He still provided her with an escape and excitement, so she stuck with him. But now she was more insistent on having a say in what they did and where they went.

It took two months for him to notice a pattern.

“What are we doing here, Nat?” he asked, voice laced with suspicion. 

She’d nearly had another panic attack when she saw you on the third day she was ‘sick’. She’d spent what she could of her free time looking for you around town, and even though she wanted to know everything about you, it was hard when she didn’t have the guts to ask anyone, or get close enough to you to ‘overhear’ anything out of fear of being recognized.

“Just like this view,” she shrugged, her eyes scanning the lone figure on the field.

“You like her or something?” Brock scoffed. “You can do better than a mutt.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A blue jeep stopped by the yellow car, and three figures stepped out. Another car drove by, dropping off another girl before taking off.

“You’re wasting your time, anyway,” he stood up, dusting the seat of his pants. “She’s only got eyes for that sourwolf bastard.”

“Is that jealousy I hear?” she chuckled. “I think you’re the one who likes her.”

“Shut up,” he snapped, though he didn’t sound angry. “Let’s go.”

His tone left no room to argue, so she got up and followed him to the car. That didn’t mean she couldn’t continue the conversation, though. “What sourwolf bastard?”

“That asshole Hale from the mutt’s basketball team,” he spat. 

“Derek Hale?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“I’ve seen him around.” Derek had taken her breath away when she first saw him at the convenience store, and she made her move. She’d never admit it, but she was still a little bitter she never heard from him. “Seems the whole town’s got their eye on him for whatever reason.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, unlocking his car. “But it’s your little girl crush down there that managed to catch his.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You were the first one at the park, so you stretched and set up your net to practice your throws while you waited for your friends. Tryouts were still a few months away, but some of you (Stiles) needed all the practice you could get. 

Stiles arrived twenty minutes later along with Scott and Isaac, and Kira not long after that.

“What’s Brock doing here?”

You all turned towards Kira’s voice before following her line of sight. Sure enough, Brock was there with some girl; the same one you kept seeing.

“I don’t know, but who’s that with him?” Scott asked. “I think she’s following us.”

Kira shrugged. “Probably goes to the academy if she’s hanging out with Brock.”

“Is she hot?” Isaac asked.

“I’ve seen her, too,” you chimed in. “She just kinda stares. It’s a little creepy.”

“Well, they’re leaving now, so how about we get to practicing?” Stiles suggested. “I actually want to get to play this season.”

Scott gave him a comforting pat. “You will, man.”

As usual, Stiles is the first one to tire. Scott teased that it’s the handfuls of curly fries he sneaks when he thinks no one’s looking, while Stiles insisted he’s only gone soft because of being benched the previous season.

Either way, you allowed him a short break before getting him on his feet again. As the sun got lower, he declared his hatred for all of you and swore he’d never speak to you again. It’s a threat you’re all familiar with, and you only replied that he’d thank you when Coach told him to get his ass on the field.

It was Lydia’s turn to host the sleepover, so you parted ways, heading home for a quick shower before meeting at her house.

You arrived just after dinner, and Cassie followed you up to your room. She asked a bunch of questions about practice as she packed everything you gave her into your bag. When you handed her the jersey you’ve been sleeping in, she stared at it for a minute. 

“Put it in the bag,” you chuckled, finding her frown adorable.

“Why do you wear it?”

“It’s good luck,” you say, smiling bashfully.

“I know, Daddy says that, too. But why is it good luck?”

“It’s,” _just a silly superstition._ “When Derek’s on the court or the field, and I’ve worn his shirts, he can smell my scent on it.” You took the jersey from her and refolded it,placing it in your bag. “It’s a reminder that I’m right there, supporting him.”

“And that helps him win?”

“Well, his skill helps him win, but the shirt maybe helps him play a _liiiittle_ better.”

She seemed to be following a train of thought, and you had an idea what she was going to ask next. “Did Derek wear your lacrosse shirt?”

“He did.”

She smiled widely and giggled. “And you won.”

“Yeah,” you giggled, too. “I won.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Natasha’s eyes always seemed to follow Derek whenever she happened upon him. Though the twinge of hurt was still present, it was replaced with something else the day Brock had told her of your relationship; jealousy. Whether that was aimed at him or at you, she still hadn’t figured out.

She’d wanted to know more, but when she asked Brock, he snarled that he didn’t want to waste his breath on ‘those dogs’. As a result, she began to seek Clint out at school, but she didn’t want to raise any suspicion by just coming right out and asking. So, she made small talk; tried to initiate something more than a passing acquaintance. Having only minutes between classes, and unable to avoid Brock at lunch, she got an idea that sounded less ridiculous the more desperate she became.

“Hey,” Peter greeted timidly from the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Mind your own business.”

“S-sorry.” He grabbed a snack from the fridge, taking side glances at Natasha staring at her phone, stood in front of the counter full of ingredients and utensils.

“It’s fine,” she sighed. “I’m making cookies. Do you know where we keep the baking powder?”

“Uh…” Peter looked around the kitchen, having no idea where they would keep something like that. “No, but I can help you look?” he offered.

She nodded, and they began the search on opposite sides of the pantry. 

The commotion had caught Steve’s attention, and he arrived in time to hear Nat lamenting the loss of their tiny kitchen back home.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, peeking into the pantry.

“We’re looking for baking powder,” Peter supplied, inspecting a container before replacing it on the shelf.

Steve squeezed past them toward the far wall, and pulled a small can from the back of the top shelf. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Natasha took it, making sure it was what she needed.

“Want some help?” Peter asked, eyes wide with hope.

She shrugged. “Sure.”

Steve watched them return to the counter, and Nat began to explain the process. When they opened the carton of eggs, they noticed there were only a few left. Wanting to encourage whatever possessed them to be in the same room, he told them not to worry, and he’d pick some more up later.

After telling them to be careful, and to clean up when they’ve finished, he made his way to the twins’ playroom to tell Peggy what had just happened. She seemed just as surprised, but optimistic that the move was finally starting to have the desired effect.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bucky had grown tired of the ongoing debate he had with Sam regarding what type of pool they should install, so when Steve had come asking if they needed anything from the store, he offered to go instead.

Since the holidays were approaching, and he wasn’t in a hurry to get back, he decided to get a few gifts for the kids. He found a doll that looked like Wanda, and knew she’d love it, along with a magic kit. For Pietro, he got a set of portable goals and soccer ball, glad that the poor kid finally had room to run around as he pleased. For Peter, he’d have to wait to see what his parents said about the car. If they said yes, he could gift him a new upholstery job or something. If not, then he’d have to think of something else. As always, he was at a complete loss when it came to Nat.

He pushed his cart to the entertainment section in hopes of finding some movies they would like, and swore under his breath.

That Derek kid was there, eyeing a display of new releases. They’d crossed paths a few times, and the boy was always quiet and scowling, and it rubbed Bucky the wrong way. Sam once pointed out that he was the same, but he argued at least he had reason to be. He was a POW. What could this punk be so moody about?

Derek looked up, casting him an uninterested glance before tossing a movie into his basket and moving to the book section. 

Anger flared up in Bucky at the way he was so dismissive of everyone around him. He thought of poor Nat, how she must have felt if that’s how he looked at her, and had to remind himself that it was for the best. Not in the mood to shop anymore, he headed to the grocery section, intending to grab the eggs and put as much distance between him and the arrogant prick as possible. 

He didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s not so internalized hostility, or he just didn’t care, annoying him even more as he walked beside him, seemingly headed to the same area. When they got to the refrigerated section, Bucky watched his reflection as he searched the ice cream shelves. He took a few and placed them in his basket and took off, making Bucky breathe easier. He got a few cartons of eggs and went to the checkout, only to find himself in Derek’s presence once again.

He was already unloading his basket, grabbing candy from the checkout display and tossing it on the belt. Bucky rolled his eyes when he saw the chips in his basket, remembering how he’d made the employee search for them the first time he encountered him.

The last thing he placed on the belt was a box of tampons, causing Bucky to snort. Derek turned to him, an eyebrow raised, daring him to say something.

Bucky ignored him and started to put his own things on the belt. He’d let it slide this time, realizing he was likely pissed because his mother or someone was making him shop for such things. 

_Kids_ , he chuckled to himself as he watched Derek leave the store.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

There was a knock at your door, and Cassie carefully climbed off the bed before running to answer it.

“Daddy!”

“There you are,” Scott smiled, taking her into his arms. “I thought you were downstairs coloring.”

“Not anymore!”

He approached the bed, sitting in the spot Cassie vacated. “Hey, Nugget. How are you doing?”

“M’ok,” you murmured.

“I’m gonna take Cassie to the park. You guys need anything?”

Derek looked down at your figure, your body curled into him for warmth. You shook your head, letting out a small whimper. Your dad pat your leg, and Derek’s hand began massaging your back again.

“Alright,” he sighed, hating that there wasn’t anything he could do to ease your pain. “We’ll be back later.”

He carried Cassie out, closing the door behind him. 

“Which park are we going to?” she asked.

“The one with the big kid swings.” He put her down and handed her her coat and reached for his keys. “Daddy wants to swing today, too.”

She giggled. “Ok.”

He kneeled in front of her and began to button her up. “Peanut, what’d I tell you about bugging your sister when she has her tummy aches?”

“But Derek brought ice cream and pizza!” she protested. “And they said I could!”

“I’m sure they did, but you’re making a habit out of it.”

“Ok,” she pouted, looking at her feet. “How come I’m not allowed to have candy when I have a tummy ache?”

“Because you don’t get the same kind as she does.”

“How do you know?”

Her challenging tone made him laugh. He picked her up and opened the front door, kissing her cheek. “I’ll explain in the car.”

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat wants to learn more about your relationship with Derek, while you’re concerned with Scott’s relationship with Hope.
> 
> A/N: I know it’s not what most of you have been waiting for, but hey! I wrote something!

Clint could hear the commotion inside. He remembered Nat mentioned all her family was flying in from New York for Thanksgiving, and figured some, if not all, had already arrived.

A car pulled up into the driveway as he rang the doorbell, and he watched curiously as an impeccably dressed couple and young girl emerged. They smiled at him, approaching the door just as it opened.

“Captain Rogers?”

The man behind him chortled. “Hear that, Rhodey? You’ve just been demoted.”

The man rolled his eyes and offered Clint his hand. “Colonel Rhodes. Come in.”

He greeted the couple and their daughter warmly, and began to lead them all into the kitchen.

“Clint?” Nat looked up from her lunch, drawing all eyes to him. 

It was lucky he wasn’t the shy type. He grinned and lifted the clean container in his hands. “Wanted to return this and thank you again for the cookies. They were so good, I had to wrestle Barney for the last one.”

“Thanks.” Natasha blushed, embarrassed at everyone’s teasing glances, but smiled nonetheless. “Wanna get out of here for a bit?”

“Hold on, now,” Tony interrupted, earning himself a glare from Natasha. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“Tony…”

“This is my wife, Pepper,” he smiled, ignoring her plea to leave the poor boy alone, “and I’m Tony Stark. We’re old friends of the Rogers’.”

“Clint Barton.” He took the offered hand and firmly shook it, never breaking eye contact. “I go to school with Nat.”

“Please excuse him. He’s been looking forward to the day he could go mama bear on these kids for ages,” Pepper teased, causing the others in the room to snicker.

“Ok then, let’s go!” Nat grabbed his arm and dragged him to the door, her stomach fluttering at the sound of Clint’s laughter meshing with her family’s. “Sorry about that,” she murmured shyly as she closed the door behind them.

“It’s alright. They seem great.”

“No, they’re embarrassing, and intrusive, and drive me completely insane.”

Clint’s laughter roared, needing a moment to calm before he started the car. “I’d be worried if they were the opposite. At least it means they care.” As he pulled away from the curb, he asked where she wanted to go, and she responded for him to surprise her. “Anyway, it’s not like you’ll be home much longer. Where are you applying to?”

Just like that, her mood soured. “I don’t know.” Clint cast her a short glance, keeping quiet, waiting for her to elaborate. “I just… I don’t even know what I want to do. Everyone’s bugging me to pick a good school, and I don’t even think I can get into one at this point.”

“Why not?” She didn’t respond, so he changed the subject. “You been to the big lake yet?”

She said no, and decided that’s where they’d spend the afternoon.

They stopped at a gas station, and by the time the snacks were sliding off their filled basket, Natasha was smiling again. She settled in the car as Clint filled up, her eyes zeroing in on a familiar figure pulling up to the pump across from them. 

As usual, he seemed to pay no mind to anything around him. She watched as he strode into the small store, and emerged soon after to fill his own car, drumming his fingers on the top as he waited for the pump to finish.

“Does he ever smile?” she asked when Clint climbed back inside.

“Derek? Yeah,” he said, trying to recall another time he’d witnessed a genuine smile from the man. “Once that I’ve seen anyway. Last year when they beat us in the championship game.”

“He plays lacrosse, too?” She’d never seen him at your practices, but then, she’d never been able to watch for very long.

“No, but his girlfriend does.”

He pulled out onto the main road and headed toward the forest. She was unsure of whether she should ask any more, since Brock was always touchy on the subject. But Clint didn’t seem annoyed by it, or the other boy’s presence. Then she remembered he’d even invited the Wolves’ team to his party.

“Are they happy?”

She wasn’t sure what she expected, perhaps confusion at her inquiry, but she wasn’t ready for the softened look he sent her as he nodded. 

“Very.”

“How do you know?” She knew she sounded jealous, but she couldn’t bring herself to care; she needed to be certain. “He’s always so… such a…”

“Sourwolf?” he asked, chuckling when she nodded. “Just an FYI, I wouldn’t call him that to his face. I only know of one person who’s gotten away with it without getting punched.”

Had it been anyone else, she might’ve snapped at them, informing them she wasn’t an idiot. But from Clint, it didn’t seem like that’s what he was implying. Plus, she was quickly becoming addicted to the sound of his laughter, so she smiled. “Noted.”

“When you see them together, you’ll know, too.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“How’s this one?” 

You looked up from your phone to see the tie Scott was holding, and you snorted. “Come on, Dad, be serious!”

“I am! It’s my favorite tie!”

You took it from him and looked it over, cringing at the drawing skills of your six year old self. “I can’t believe you still have this.” The figure looked vaguely humanoid, and its face was bright yellow with black squiggles around its cheeks.

“Hey! I think I look amazing as a Pikachu, alright?!” You groaned in embarrassment as his laughter bounced around the room. “Fine, I’ll save it for the next parent-teacher conference.”

“Please don’t.”

“Your wedding then.”

“I’m eloping.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest in horror. “You’d deny your sister the pleasure of being your flower girl? No wait, she’ll be too old for that by then. She’d better be, anyway,” he sent you a pointed glare. “Your maid of honor?”

“You’re going to be late if you don’t quit it.” You pushed past him and began to go through the ties in his closet, pulling out a few of your favorites. He waited patiently, smiling at you as you concentrated on your task. “This one. It brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks.” He faced the mirror while he tied it, his fingers fumbling nervously as he did so.

You weren’t sure why he was still worried about making a good impression. He and Hope had worked together for years, and their relationship seemed to be going well. 

“Hey, how do you feel about me inviting Hope over for Thanksgiving?”

_Oh, that was why._

“Uh, great, yeah, if you want.”

“You don’t seem happy,” he frowned at you through the mirror. 

“No, I’m just surprised is all.”

“Good surprise?”

His expression was hopeful, and you had to remind yourself that he was the happiest he’s been since your mother’s passing. Swallowing your doubts, you forced a smile. “Yeah.” His eyes shone, and he grabbed his coat, ready to leave for his date. “What time’s Tío picking Cassie up?”

Scott grimaced as he cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, Nugget, I forgot to tell you you’re gonna have to drop her off on your way to Derek’s.”

“Van bust again?”

“Yeah.”

You giggled all the way down the stairs, joking about how he still tries to pass himself off as a mechanic when the van spends more time dead in the driveway than on the road.

“Cass! Let’s go!” you shouted as you grabbed your keys.

She ran downstairs, her backpack bouncing with every step, and the ugliest stuffed rabbit you’d ever seen was in her hands.

“Be good, ok?” Your dad kissed the top of her head, and then your cheek. “You too. _Especially_ you. I’m too young to be a grandma.”

“Oh my god! We’re leaving now!”

“Wah!” Cassie squealed when you tugged at her arm. “Bye, Daddy!”

He was still on the porch, laughing at your embarrassment when you pulled out of the driveway. Cassie was too excited for the sleepover with Luis’ nieces to ask any questions, and you were grateful for it.

When you reached his place, you honked for him to come out to get her. You knew it was a bit rude, but you also knew if you stopped the car and got out, you’d be stuck listening to another one of his rambling stories.

He came out and invited you in, but you told him you were headed to a movie, and were already running late. It wasn’t a complete lie, you _were_ going to a movie, but you still had to wait for Derek to finish his shift at the garage and get ready for your date.

The radio was too loud for him to hear you pull up, but you didn’t mind. It was unseasonably warm that evening, so you were pretty sure of what you were about to walk into. 

His coverall was hanging down from his waist, his beater and chest smudged with grease. You watched as he was bent into a car’s hood, seemingly bolting something into place. Even over the loud music, you could hear him humming along. You smiled softly in amusement; the song currently playing was one you loved, but he swore he didn’t care for.

“Hey, Y/N.” Peter had come out of the office with a customer. 

“Hi.” You noticed the corner of Derek’s mouth twitch when his eyes found yours.

Once the customer had left after being given the keys to his newly repaired car, Peter asked if you had plans for the night. When you nodded, he turned the radio off and told Derek he’d finish and lock up for him.

Derek washed his hands, and gestured for you to follow him to their loft above the shop. He held the door open for you, his lips immediately attaching themselves to yours once you stepped through the threshold. You were getting better at kissing without any other kind of contact, careful not to get any engine grime on you. He pulled away before you were ready, and chuckled at the annoyed growl that escaped your lips. 

You went into his room where he grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the shower, while you made yourself comfortable on his sloppily made bed. He didn’t usually make it, and even though you didn’t mind, he made an effort to straighten everything up whenever you came over. He was out and ready in 20 minutes, which never failed to remind you of how much offense Stiles seems to take to Derek’s ‘effortless swooniness’. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So things seem to be going well,” Sharon prompted, pushing the cart through the store.

“Nat could be doing better, but Peter and the twins are adapting wonderfully.”

“What about the boys?” Pepper perused the wine selection, occasionally adding one to the cart.

“Surprisingly, Bucky’s had the easiest time with the change. He’s more relaxed than I’ve seen him in a long time.” Sharon and Pepper hummed in amusement. “Steve’s still trying to come to terms with leaving New York, and everything that entails.” 

The other two women shared a look. 

“I haven’t given up,” Sharon reassured.

Peggy took her cousin’s hand, squeezing it firmly. “I know.” Her eyes began to mist, and she excused herself to the restroom.

“Have you found anything new?” Pepper asked when she was out of sight. Unbeknownst to Peggy, she and Sharon often spoke about the latter’s ongoing investigation.

“No,” Sharon mumbled, her distress evident. “I keep hitting the same dead ends, and it only gets harder the more time passes.”

Pepper gave her an encouraging pat. Sharon had left the police force and became a private investigator when the case was filed away, but she hadn’t been able to make much headway. 

The two walked up and down the aisles, checking items off their list and keeping an eye out for Peggy.

“So, that boy from earlier… that wasn’t Nat’s boyfriend, was it?”

“Nah, Peggy said the boyfriend’s name is Brock, and he’s an ass.”

“That’s a shame,” Pepper shrugged. “Think we’ll get to meet him?”

“Doubt it. The boy’s been invited to dinner to meet the family, but he never shows.”

“Oh, Nat,” Pepper sighed in disappointment. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was extremely late by the time you got back to Derek’s. You’d gone out of town, to one with one of the only drive-ins left in the area. Derek felt more at ease away from the prying eyes of the townsfolk of Beacon Hills. More than that, he loved the drive-in; he’d put blankets and pillows in the back of a pickup, and you’d watch the movie from the privacy of the truck’s bed. 

Despite it being late, neither of you were tired. You lay in bed, speaking in hushed voices so as not to wake Peter. You could have gone back to your place, but you weren’t sure if your dad would be home, or if he would be alone.

“Hey,” Derek cooed. “You just went broody on me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I was just wondering if my dad would be home.”

Derek’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

“He um, he wants Hope to spend Thanksgiving with us.” You turned away from him, laying on your back to avoid eye contact. “Their relationship is moving forward.”

“And you don’t approve?” You could practically hear the frown you knew he was sporting. 

“It’s not that.” You hadn’t told anyone, not even your friends of your doubts regarding Hope. You weren’t even sure you _should_. 

Derek’s hand cupped your cheek, gently turning you to face him. “What is it?”

You swallowed thickly at the concern in his eyes, knowing it would hurt him a little if you declined, but he’d still respect your decision. Voicing it felt like it would make it real, but where could you be vulnerable if not in the arms of the person you loved?

“I don’t know where I stand with her. She,” your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat, willing yourself to spit it out. “She’s great with Cassie, but with me she’s… distant. Polite, but…” Derek reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours. “She has to like Cass, you know? She actually _is_ my dad’s kid, but me? She doesn’t have to like me.”

“You really think Scott would let it get this far if she didn’t?”

“She could pretend,” you countered. “If he loves her, he may blind himself to it. And I don’t want to get in the way of his happiness. Especially…” At the realization, you inched over, kissing him softly. “Especially not after he was so supportive of mine. I guess I can handle it, as long as I get to keep the Alpha.”

“Stop,” he grinned, his cheeks flushing pink at the pet name he secretly loved. 

“What?” You couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable he was. “You’re the captain of the baseball and basketball teams. That makes you an Alpha.”

“ _Your_ Alpha,” he corrected, lips ghosting over yours.

Your breath hitched, and your own face began to warm. “ _My_ Alpha.”

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s fist date prompts the family to attend a lacrosse game.

“Come on, Stiles!” you heard from the stands. 

Winter break was over, and now it was the first day of tryouts. Coach only yelled at you once, so you figured you were doing pretty well. Stiles on the other hand, not so much. He’d been put on the goal, hoping to give the other players a confidence boost by scoring some easy points.

“You’re freezing up,” Scott said. “Relax, and do just like we practiced.”

“Ok, relax, practice. Relax. Practice. Got it.”

He made a show of ‘loosening up’, causing some of the other students to snicker. You hoped he didn’t hear them, and watched as Danny flung the ball straight at him. You heard Stiles’ cheering before you saw where the ball landed; in the pocket.

That was all the boost he needed. He caught several more balls before practice was over, impressing half the team, and apparently annoying the other half.

When he was told he would be participating in the first elimination round the following day, he pulled you all into a sweaty hug, thanking you for all the days he wanted to kill you for making him practice so hard.

On the field, he froze again. You all tried your best to make sure he got the ball, and keep Jackson from knocking him down. It took a little bit, but he’d snapped out of his stage fright and started playing like he’d been practicing all year. After he scored his third goal, even Coach was speechless. 

On Friday, the roster was posted outside the locker room. Stiles found his name missing under the ‘Benched’ section, and screeched when he found he’d actually be playing this season. By the end of the second week, Coach announced who’d made first line.

That weekend, the Sheriff invited you all for dinner to celebrate.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So, you asked her on a date?” Steve asked, and his son’s eyes grew comically wide.

“Date? No! I just… uh…”

“What did you say?”

“I asked if she wanted to go to the movies before the game, and maybe get some pizza after.”

“Otherwise known as a date, Kid,” Sam chuckled.

Peter made a sound like a whimper as his face began to redden.

“Pete, she already said yes, and you _do_ like her.” Bucky had been the one Peter talked to about Shuri. He didn’t ask any advice or anything, it was all just how smart and nice and witty she was. “What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know how to be on a date!”

“C’mere.” Steve gestured for a hug, and Peter clung to him for comfort. “Just be yourself. Like Buck said, she already said yes, so she must like the guy you’ve been all along, right?”

“I guess so.”

“That’s it,” he patted his shoulder, smiling proudly. “Now how’s this gonna work? You want me to take you, or your mom, or?”

“Her brother’s dropping us off at the movies, but we need someone to take us to the game.” As if only realizing it then, he started to panic again. “Her brother! He’s the captain of the lacrosse team!”

“So?”

“SO?! So what if I mess up and he kills me?!”

Steve suppressed his laughter, knowing Peter would only calm down once it was over. Bucky offered to help him pick out an outfit, to which Sam took offense, saying he was better equipped to help.

“It’s like having two more children with them,” Peggy said as she joined Steve downstairs. “They’re worse than _actual_ children.”

They could hear snippets of what was going on in Peter’s room, and it was nearly two hours of bickering before they returned to the living room to let him get ready. 

The doorbell rang, and Peggy answered it. A girl Peter’s age walked in, followed by an older boy, and Clint. He introduced Shuri and her brother T’Challa, and they worked out who would be taking the kids to the game.

Peter stopped at the stairs, turning bright red at how lovely his date looked outside of her school uniform. Shuri caught him staring and grinned bashfully. She ran toward him, taking his hand and pulling him to introduce him to her brother. Peter was relieved to see he looked rather friendly, and not at all like he wanted to hurt him.

When the kids had left, they sat around the living room, not knowing what to do with themselves. Sam chuckled nervously, reminding them it felt a lot like when they’d dropped Nat and Peter off on their first days of kindergarten.

When they couldn’t handle it anymore, Steve went across the street to see if their neighbor’s daughter was available to babysit the twins. Erica was a nice, quiet girl, and they’d hoped that she and Nat would become friends. While that didn’t pan out, they kept her offer to babysit should they need it in the back of their minds. Steve offered her a couple more dollars per hour than her usual rate due to the short notice, and she agreed, rushing over with a large bag of games and crafting supplies to keep them entertained.

Downtown, Steve and Peggy settled in a little cafe just across the theater, while Sam and Bucky went to a smoothie place a few doors down. They ordered their smoothies and sat at a small table by the window to wait for their drinks, trying to come up with an excuse to attend the game.

“How do you even play lacrosse, anyway?” Bucky asked, his whole face scrunching in confusion.

“It’s like, uh, you know,” Sam shrugged, “hockey, but on grass.”

“That’s field hockey.” Bucky rolled his eyes, then groaned when a black Camaro parked in front of the smoothie shop. “Look who it is.”

“Will you look at that…” Sam’s brows raised, impressed to see two pretty girls exit the vehicle with him. “So he _does_ have friends.” They watched him open the door and hold it for them. “And he’s a gentleman.”

Bucky scoffed, “Yeah, only for those he deems worthy of his attention, it seems.”

“Hey look, they’re wearing the same shirt.”

Bucky turned in his seat, eyeing the maroon jerseys they sported. The redhead’s said ‘Whittemore’ on the back, and the brunette’s ‘McCall’. “Please tell me that’s not who we’re playing,” he growled, glaring at the back of Derek’s jersey reading ‘Lang’.

They quieted as the boy delivering their drinks approached, Bucky’s eyes never leaving the trio at the counter.

“Come on, man, no sense in getting riled up before the game even starts,” Sam advised once the boy had gone. “Though I’ll admit, if losing to his team is my first lacrosse experience, I don’t think I’ll like this sport very much.”

Derek passed them, a full drink caddy in each hand. The brunette, also with two caddies, followed next.

She looked friendly enough, so Sam stopped her on the way to the door. “Excuse me, who are you playing tonight?”

“Devenford Prep.” 

“Are they any good?”

“Yeah, but we’re better,” she replied with a beautiful, dimpled smile. “We’re not three time state champions for nothing.”

“Soon to be four,” the redhead offered as she passed.

“Allison,” Derek called from the door, glowering at the two men. “We’re going to be late.”

“Gotta go!” the brunette, Allison, chirped.

Derek waited until both girls were at the car, casting Sam and Bucky a last unfriendly glance before following. 

“Man,” Sam shook his head in disbelief.

Shortly after, Peter and Shuri emerged from the theater. Neither of them thought twice about why they decided to attend the game, and the latter explained the rules on the drive to the academy. They purchased their tickets, heading to the stands to find a good spot while Shuri and Peter separated to continue their date. They had just settled into their seats when Natasha came storming up the bleachers.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. Her eyes were wide, almost frightened.

“We just came to watch the game,” Steve replied tiredly.

“Why? You don’t even like lacrosse.”

“We’re giving it a chance,” Peggy snipped. “Now if you’re finished, either sit down and drop the attitude, or return to your friends and let us enjoy it.”

Natasha’s composure wavered at the sting of her mother’s words. With a huff, she turned her back and returned to her own seat, glaring daggers at Peter as she passed him along the way.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It had been a month since they finally opened their shop, and two weeks since Sam had gone back to his own life. Business was slow, but it was expected as it was still winter. They were more than fine with that, as it gave them time to adjust to running it.

Bucky was alone behind the counter, a book Peter had recommended in hand, when the sheriff walked in with a boy.

“Trouble, Sheriff?” he asked, smirking. “This one’s not ours.”

“Nope, this little delinquent belongs to me,” Noah chuckled, ignoring the narrowed eyes his son sent him. “We need some fishing lures. _Someone_ lost our old ones on his last camping trip with his friends.” 

“I thought I saw a mountain lion!” the boy defended, clearly embarrassed if his reddening complexion was anything to go by.

“Ok, ok.”

Bucky snickered, gesturing them to follow him to the fishing section where they could choose their lures. He noticed the boy’s eyes wandering, trying to take it all in, growing even more amused as his father repeatedly reminded him not to touch anything whenever his hands reached out. In a way, he kind of reminded him of Peter. 

The door chimed, and he excused himself, leaving the sheriff and his son to browse in peace. He’d thought it might be another customer, but it was Steve and the twins, dropping off some lunch for him on their way to the park. Ever since that first lacrosse game, they’d become hooked on the sport. After the next few games, they’d noted how exhausted Erica looked at the end of the night, and they started taking the twins out, hoping to tire them out a bit to make things easier on her.

Steve saw the sheriff and greeted him, briefly introducing the twins as he returned his attention to Bucky. 

“All good?” Bucky just nodded, as his mouth was too full from the burger he’d just bitten. “Hey,” he lowered his voice, inching closer so he wouldn’t be overheard, “have you talked to Nat lately?”

Bucky swallowed his bite, but still covered his mouth with a napkin. “Not really, why?”

“Is it just me or has she been acting strange all week?”

“Right, yeah,” Bucky hummed, nodding. “She’s been anxious, but I don’t know what about. I asked, but she just said it was school stuff.”

“It’s what she told me and Peg, too.” Steve sighed, not wanting to ask the following question, but knowing he needed to. “Do you think it’s the truth?”

“Part of it. It’s more than that, but she’s not talkin’.”

“You think maybe there’s trouble between her and Brock?”

“We could only hope.” At receiving a disappointed look from Steve, Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t gimme that look, Punk, you know what I mean.”

Steve did know, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have the smallest flicker of hope that relationship would end as well. Still, the guilt of it weighed on him. “I know, but we shouldn’t be wishing for it.”

“We wouldn’t be if he were a decent guy,” Bucky reasoned. “She’s not even happy with him.” 

Steve cleared his throat as the sheriff and his son approached, pausing their conversation. He stepped behind the counter to ring them up so Bucky could continue his meal.

“So when’s the fishing trip?”

“Tomorrow,” Noah replied, clapping a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “How’s Beacon Hills treating you?”

“Wonderful,” Steve grinned. “It’s kind of a shock, you know, having lived in New York most of our lives.”

“Wait, you guys are new in town?” Stiles asked, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah, Stiles, they’ve been here a few months.”

Bucky set the twins on the counter so they could pick off his plate. “The kids love it, don’t ya, Chipmunks?”

“I like the food,” Pietro giggled, nibbling on a beet fry. Wanda bashfully hid her face behind her lion and nodded.

Steve and the kids left shortly after the sheriff, and Bucky spent the rest of the afternoon reading and helping the occasional customer who came in. Since it was game night, he decided to close up a little early and head home to change and see if anyone needed anything before the game. 

At home, he was surprised to find Natasha sitting on the couch instead of out with her friends. She hadn’t missed a game yet, yet there she sat, unsure if she wanted to attend that night’s game, according to Steve. Bucky briefly recalled their wondering if there were problems in her relationship, but looking at her now, it didn’t seem like that was what was bothering her. She wasn’t upset or sad, or even angry. If anything, she looked scared; terrified, actually, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with lacrosse.

At first.

As the evening progressed, he suspected that not only did she not want to attend the game, but she wanted all of them to stay in as well.

First she said everyone at school said the game was going to be boring, then she mentioned something about Pietro not looking his best since coming back from the park. Peggy asked him how he felt, and even took his temperature, but the boy seemed perfectly fine. In a last ditch effort, she complained it was a home game for the rival team, and the school was too small to accommodate the crowds other schools could safely hold, and she didn’t want to end up on collapsing bleachers.

Bucky was worried, and even though he would do anything to make his godchildren happy, he wasn’t about to miss the game. The academy’s team was one of the best, having lost only one game so far in the season, and he was excited to see them play who he believed were the soon to be _former_ state champions.

Yeah, Bucky was _really_ into lacrosse.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

They all got to their feet as Clint scored the second goal for their team, tying them in the first quarter. Even Nat seemed to have loosened up a bit. 

After Steve had asked her for the final time whether or not she was staying so he knew if he had to call Erica to cancel, she said she’d meet them there and took off. When they arrived at the school after picking Peter and Shuri up, Nat was at the top of the stands, waving them over to the seats she’d reserved for them. Peter complained about being too far from the field, but a glare from his sister quickly shut him up. Everyone else was too pleased she was actually sitting with them to care.

The second quarter came and went, with no points scored by either team. Regardless, the game was intense, and Nat’s prior claims of the opposite were momentarily forgotten. 

It was nearing the end of the third quarter when a player from the opposing team scored, bringing loud cheers from the stands on the other side of the field. Not two minutes later, the same player scored again. As the teams were about to reposition themselves for the faceoff, one of the players from the academy ran at the player in full force, knocking him to the ground hard. 

Natasha was the first on her feet as the crowds gasped, and she was furious as she ran down the stands. It was then they realized the attacking player was Brock. Bucky was surprised to find he was disappointed; he supposed he didn’t think his opinion of Brock could be any lower. 

His surprise turned to confusion when he saw a familiar, leather clad figure barrell off the stands and onto the field. Bucky had thought he was on the team. Before the referee or any of the others could reach them, he tore Brock’s helmet off and landed two vicious punches to his face before he was dragged off him. The player who had been knocked down was on his feet, marching over as members of both teams restrained the others to prevent a fight.

Bucky wanted to be satisfied that someone gave Brock a taste of something he had coming for a long time, but why did it have to be by Derek’s hand, of all people? 

“What the hell?” he murmured, watching as Derek freed himself to fuss over the player before the coach began to do the same.

“Looks like he’s alright,” Steve said. “He’s getting back on the field.”

“Well, I’m going over there to make sure.” Peggy watched as Natasha took Brock’s arm and led him away from the eyes of the crowd, meaning he’d been benched for the rest of the game. “Coach Pierce!” she called, approaching the bench. “Is this a one time thing, or has it been a problem every year he’s played?”

The coach chuckled patronizingly. “Relax, he thought the ball was still in play. It was a mistake.”

Some of the players cast him incredulous looks behind his back, and Peggy didn’t miss it. “If I hear of any more unsportsmanlike behavior from him, he’s benched for the rest of the season, understand?”

Coach Pierce’s smirk faltered, but he indicated he understood. With that out of the way, she waited for a pause in the game, cutting across the field to get to the other team’s coach.

“Excuse me, Coach?”

The man had a strange look about him; not quite crazed, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Who are you?” he asked rather brusquely.

“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Rogers, the headmistress at Beacon Academy.”

“Oh, ok.”

She wasn’t sure whether he was just odd, or if he was being dismissive of her. “I just wanted to apologize about Mr. Rumlow and make sure your player’s alright.”

“Who? Lang?” he snickered. “Yeah, she’s fine!”

Peggy blinked, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. “She?”

“Yeah, hard headed and resilient, that one.” He gestured toward the field as the player in question sped past.

She didn’t appear to be in any pain, and she was running just as well as she had earlier, so Peggy thanked the coach for his time and again waited to cross the field. As she climbed the stands, she found her family wasn’t watching the game, but something by the side of the bleachers.

Natasha and Brock were engaged in an argument, and it wasn’t a small one by the looks of it.

Finally, it appeared that Nat had had enough, and with a final shout that none of them could hear, she sent him away. Brock stalked angrily back toward the team medic. His face was already swollen and bruised, and he kept wiping away the blood coming from his lip. Peggy thought he was most likely going to need a few stitches.

Though no one voiced it at the time, they all hoped that was the end of that. 

Steve half expected her to regret it, maybe chase after him, but she didn’t. Instead, she searched for something, or someone, across the field. Derek, he realized, and sighed internally. Of course she’d still want him, especially after that display. 

“What happened?” he asked, turning away from Nat. He wanted to enjoy the situation while it lasted. “What did the coach say?”

“Nothing,” she scoffed, though she was amused. “ _She’s_ fine.”

Bucky seemed to tune into the conversation then. “She who?”

“The player Brock tackled.”

It seemed Brock was still full of surprises, and Bucky exchanged an appalled look with Steve.

Steve scanned the field, needing to confirm for himself that the player wasn’t hurt. Meanwhile, Bucky searched the stands. 

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter learns why he should never, ever approach the owner of the yellow Skylark.

Nat hadn’t spoken to Brock since that game. He’d gone over to the house, actually walking up to the door, and asked to see her on a few occasions. She turned him away every time. She knew she was a hypocrite for getting as angry as she did, knowing she wouldn’t have cared had he attacked any other player on the team. It didn’t matter, though. She was actually pleased she was rid of him, much to her own surprise. More than anything, she was relieved that no one saw anything at the game. Still, she didn’t relax; she couldn’t. Not only would there be other games, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before someone ran into you. It was a small town, after all, at least compared to New York. All she could hope for was that no one recognized you when they did. 

The only bad thing about breaking up with Brock was that now she was back at square one; no boyfriend, no friends, and nothing to do. She considered pursuing something with Clint, but it seemed to her that every time they spoke, it was because _she_ initiated it. 

Word spreads fast in school, so she knew everyone knew she had left her old group of friends behind, yet no one stepped up to try to befriend her. She thought for sure Clint would, but he didn’t. At first she thought maybe it was because he was Brock’s teammate, and it would complicate things or cause problems amongst the team, but it looked like Brock was getting the same treatment. It shocked her, as she didn’t think his usual crowd could ever do anything but worship the ground he walked on. She didn’t care, though. Brock was no longer her concern.

For the first time in a long time, Nat didn’t want distractions. She wanted something real. It hit her when she saw not only the concern of your teammates, but the concern of some of the academy’s players, too. She saw how T’Challa had commanded his players to back off when Derek beat Brock, and when Clint actually spoke to you, making sure you were ok. It made her realize just how lonely she really was.

She didn’t understand it until she saw Derek, though. He was even angrier than she was when Brock tackled you, and Clint’s words came flooding back to her.

_When you see them together, you’ll know._

The relief on his face when he realized you weren’t hurt morphed into pure adoration. As he looked you over, needing to be sure you were alright, her own heart broke at having never seen that look on Brock’s, or anyone’s, face. Whatever Derek was, whatever he did or whatever facade he put up, it’s not who he was when he was with you. Meanwhile, she never dropped hers in front of anyone. No one had ever made her feel the way you seemed to make each other feel.

Now she’d seen you together, and she knew.

She never stood a chance.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

As much as Peter missed his friends and his old hangouts, he was starting to love his new home. He had a smart, beautiful girlfriend, an awesome car, and little to no city traffic to prevent him from enjoying it when the time came.

He was in the driveway again, listening to the radio in his ‘new’ Chevelle. It was about the only thing that worked in the old car, but that was the way he wanted it. Sometimes the twins would join him, making engine sounds and pretending they were on a trip. Other times, he’d end his dates with Shuri there, talking until it was time for her to go home.

The sun had just set, and the light was quickly diminishing. Her brother was due to pick her up any minute, so they sat in the car, relishing the last few moments they had together. They were speaking animatedly about their plans for spring break, which Steve had surprised them with a trip to the southern part of the state, and invited Shuri to come along. She had squealed that she’d always wanted to go to Disneyland. 

A yellow car sped by, and Shuri pursed her lips at the gleam in Peter’s eye as he watched it shrink in the distance. He turned back to her, and his smile faltered at the worried look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You don’t like the Skylark?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that.”

“Oh, well, what is it?” He could hear her mind working, trying to decide if she should say what she was thinking. “Do you know who owns it?”

“No, not really. I know her name’s Y/N Lang, and she calls it Honeybee.”

“Aww,” Peter gushed. “That’s cute. You think she’ll let me take a picture of it? My friend Ned back home would-”

“No!” Shuri interrupted, clutching tightly on his arm. “You mustn’t speak to her!”

“W-why not?”

Shuri sighed, deciding it would be better to tell him what she knew, rather than risk Peter putting himself in danger. “Because of Derek Hale.”

Peter knew that name, he’d even seen the guy around town once or twice. Most people seemed to be afraid of him, from what he could tell. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

“He’s her boyfriend,” she leaned in, whispering as if it was some big secret. “Things don’t go well for people who cross their path. I’d say ‘Just ask Matt Daehler’, but…”

Peter’s brows knit in confusion. “Who’s that?”

“A boy who was found drowned in a creek last year. A _shallow creek_. My cousin said it happened just days after he spoke to her. Derek was the prime suspect.”

Peter visibly paled, swallowing hard at the information she’d given him. “But, there wasn’t any evidence, was there? Since he’s free right now. Why did they think it was him?”

“Look, we don’t even know Derek. My cousin thinks all the rumors are true, but my brother’s not so sure.” She hesitated again, but she quickly relaxed, resigning herself to just getting it all out there. He’d hear everything eventually, it might as well be now. “His family died in a fire a few years ago. Only three people survived: him, one of his sisters, and an uncle who said it was a miracle he was able to get out. Then, two years ago, his sister was killed. Had their uncle been trapped in the house, the only surviving member would be Derek.”

“Wait, so people think he killed his own _family_?”

“That’s the rumor,” she said. “It’s not just family, but girlfriends, too! Before his sister, his girlfriend was found in the woods. Then it was an ex last year. Throat ripped right open. Then when Matt died, and people started saying he was seen talking to Derek’s current girlfriend…”

“They assumed he did it.”

A loud knock on Shuri’s window startled them, making them both scream. They could hear T’Challa laughing, and they climbed out of the car just as Bucky ran out the front door, clutching a large hunting knife in his hand. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

There weren’t many times you were seriously angry at your sister, but this was one of them. You’d all been ready to go, and were only waiting on your dad to double check the back door was locked before leaving, when Cassie spilled juice all over herself.

Now your dad had to get Cassie cleaned up and changed. You’d offered to do it, but he already had her halfway up the stairs and told you to sit tight. You swallowed thickly, turning back toward the living room.

Hope smiled at you, but you could see it didn’t reach her eyes. You offered your own strained one in return before taking a seat on the couch across from her.

“So,” she began awkwardly, “will Derek be joining us tonight?”

“Oh, um, no. He has… other things to take care of.”

She nodded in understanding, only letting silence linger for a moment. “Everything’s going well at the garage?”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s good.”

“That’s good. And you? Are you happy at Argent’s?”

“Can’t complain.” You hadn’t noticed when your knee began to bounce, so you pulled your legs up and sat cross legged instead. 

“I hear your team made the semi-finals. Excited?”

The minutes dragged, and though you resolved to try to make things less awkward with Hope, it didn’t seem like it was any different than before. You suffered through small talk, silently begging your dad to hurry up and get down there already.

It felt like hours had passed by the time they descended the stairs, finally ready to begin your ‘family’ outing. They were a regular occurrence, but it was the first one Hope attended.

It wasn’t too bad, once it was the four of you again. You pretty much just focused on Cassie, keeping interactions with your dad and Hope to a minimum. It was easy enough to do, and easy enough to not let negative thoughts creep to the forefront of your mind. At least, it was until you fell a bit behind, and noticed how sweet the three of them looked together. 

They held Cassie up, swinging her between them as she laughed. You tried to be grateful that Hope seemed to genuinely care about them, but you couldn’t help the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach that made you question if there was room in that picture for you.

Your father’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts. As you picked up the pace to catch up, you realized it didn’t matter whether or not you fit in. You only had a little more than two years of school left. After that, you’d be off to college, or moving in with Derek, and you wouldn’t have to feel like the odd one out anymore.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader’s friends need to pick up some last minute supplies before their camping trip. Luckily, Stiles knew of a new shop along the way.

Despite them still having to get through a week of school before they were off for spring break, Shuri already had her bags packed. She’d rubbed how much fun she was going to have in her brother’s face, since he was going to be stuck practicing lacrosse for the upcoming semi-finals.

T’Challa told her he hoped the Rogers’ forget her in the desert, and she sent Peter a playful glare when he laughed in response.

The chatter died down when Natasha unexpectedly sat at their table, hardly looking up from her tray of food. They all turned to Peter, who looked even more confused than they did. Shuri’s cousin, Erik, stood abruptly and left, followed by a couple of others, leaving their lunches behind.

Clint laughed nervously, pulling their food toward him. “More for me! Hey, Nat.”

“Hey,” she croaked.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter how both she and Brock had dropped in popularity since their breakup. He did fail to notice, however, that they seemed to have fallen to the very bottom of the hierarchy. He realized she hardly went out anymore, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he saw anyone speak to her.

“Shuri was just telling us that she’s all set for our trip, weren’t you?”

She picked up on his pleading tone, and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I’m looking forward to it!”

Little by little, the conversation picked back up. Peter kept glancing nervously at his sister, hoping she wouldn’t be upset with him for forcing her inclusion. When she looked up at him, her lips twitching into a soft smile, he breathed a sigh of relief.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, Nat left without so much as a goodbye. Peter watched her leave, worry evident on his face. When he turned to look at the people who remained, they all turned away quickly.

After walking Shuri to her class, he headed toward his own, stopping when he heard Nat’s name coming from somewhere ahead of him. He recognized the voices as belonging to Clint and Erik.

“You didn’t have to be a dick about it!”

“I didn’t see you rush to extend your hand in friendship after!” Erik hissed. “Brock’s got a target on his back now, and-”

“Oh, come on!” Clint scoffed.

“AND so might she by association.”

“You don’t actually believe that crap, do you?”

“I believe what I know, and what I know is that anyone who crosses Hale ends up dead.”

“You don’t know that, that’s ridiculous.”

“Are you certain there’s no truth in it?” Erik challenged, and Clint didn’t respond. “Brock attacked his girl on that field. You know as well as I do it wasn’t an accident.” He shifted his backpack and walked away, Clint leaving soon after.

Instead of heading to class, Peter went to the nurse’s office. He was feeling a bit faint, so he was given some water and told to lie down while the nurse called his mother.

Peggy was there in a minute, and after failing to get any answers from him other than ‘I’m fine’, she called Steve to pick him up and instructed him to stay rested for the rest of the day.

He told his father his head was hurting, only to keep him from asking the same questions the nurse and his mother had already asked. Instead, he thought about Nat. He wondered if that was why people seemed to be avoiding her, and if she knew. Did she think her days were numbered, just like Erik did? Should he say something?

As concerned as he was, he somehow thought that would only make everything worse. He knew his family would take it seriously, and Shuri said herself they were only rumors, and not everyone believed them. 

Maybe he could talk to the Sheriff? He seemed nice. But what if he told his parents?

He groaned in frustration, leaning his head against the window.

Steve gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, assuring him they were almost home. 

Both his parents insisted he stay home the following day, and he didn’t have it in him to argue. He ate his breakfast in silence, and headed back to his room. Peggy asked if he wanted her to stay, but he’d said no, and she headed off to school with Natasha. 

Steve and Bucky asked if he wanted to go to the shop with them, but Peter said he wanted to nap and do homework, and that he’d be fine alone. They got the twins ready and headed out, reluctantly leaving Peter, staring at his window.

At first, he’d thought to try to sleep in, but as he’d had such a restless night, he didn’t think it was a viable option. He then took a page out of Shuri’s book and began to pack for their trip south. It didn’t take him long, though, and his mind went back to imagining the worst in no time.

Part of him knew his imagination was running away with him; how could so much death surround one person, and that person be let to walk free if he had been involved? That rational part of his brain fell to the back burner as the more gruesome thoughts took over, and unable to bear it any longer, dug through to the back of his closet where he kept his personal laptop hidden.

His parents thought he was too young to have his own computer, but Tony disagreed, and bought him one one day when he was visiting.

Peter turned it on now, biting his bottom lip as he silently urged the machine to boot faster. When it did, he began his search. 

First he started with a broad search of the crimes in Beacon Hills. Needless to say, he was a little surprised by the results. With the exception of a couple of names here and there, only recognizing the Sheriff’s, it was a dead end. Then he began searching by name, recalling the people Shuri mentioned.

All he found on Matt were lacrosse and yearbook photos, and that he’d drowned. There were no traces of drugs or alcohol in his system. There was no foul play suspected, and the accepted answer was that he’d fallen and knocked himself out in an unfortunate spot. There was no mention of Derek, or his girlfriend.

He searched Y/N Lang next, and there was even less to be found about her: a mention on a story about the lacrosse state championship, and a “Best Friends” photo in the Beacon Hills High yearbook.

Derek Hale brought him the most results, but it wasn’t anything related to the information he was after, and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated. He wasn’t explicitly mentioned the news about the fire that claimed the lives of most of his family, nor in the story about his sister’s death. 

All he found were several articles surrounding his achievements in athletics, and a “Cutest Couple” photo in the yearbook with a girl named Paige. They looked to be about Peter’s age in the picture, and he couldn’t imagine someone so young being capable of taking a life and getting away with it.

He thought about how he would feel if he lost Shuri. Not just her, but his whole family. The loss would change him, that was for sure, and he wondered if that’s what happened to Derek. And if the rumors weren’t true, he imagined that would’ve only made everything worse.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You kissed Derek goodbye as he dropped you off at Stiles’ for your camping trip. He couldn’t go because he had baseball ‘camp’, which only meant the team had to practice during spring break while everyone else got time off. It was unfair, but as Derek enjoyed it, he didn’t mind. Thus, you learned not to mind, either.

Scott was already there, trying not to laugh at the speech Stiles was getting about being responsible with his things.

None of you were sure why you even took fishing equipment in the first place, since you never actually caught much. When you did, you would release it. It was more about relaxing and talking and splashing around in the water. A string tied to a stick would’ve served the same purpose.

Still, Noah reluctantly handed over the tackle box and rods, wishing you a fun and safe trip.

You packed all your things into the back of the jeep, recently cleared of the usual clutter of lacrosse gear, and waited for the others to arrive.

Stiles nearly choked on air when Allison pulled up in her dad’s SUV, and saw Lydia sitting in the passenger seat. Scott pat him on the back, urging him to keep it together. Apparently, the only way Allison was going to be allowed to go, was if Lydia went, too. 

He rambled on and on about how he was finally going to get his chance to impress her, and it only got worse when you made a pit stop just before heading into the forest.

Scott was in need of a two person sleeping bag, and when he ran into the new shop that had opened not too long ago, Lydia had called shotgun on the jeep before heading into the store herself.

Before Stiles could panic, or die of happiness, Kira and Isaac appeared, asking to squeeze into the back with you, stating they didn’t want to bear witness to all the cute, couply stuff between Scott and Allison.

You moved your stuff to the back of the SUV instead, and had Isaac sit in the very back of the jeep. He complained a little, but Stiles threatened to send him back to Allison’s car if he didn’t shut it.

Lydia arrived, sending Isaac an apologetic smile as she handed Scott her new tent and inflatable mattress to store in the car. You thought Stiles’ face was going to split with how wide he was grinning. Unfortunately, his joy only lasted as long as it took for Lydia to start gushing about the hot blond behind the counter.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was only Bucky at the shop today; Peggy had taken the twins to the academy’s pre-school, while Steve took care of preparations for their trip. Bucky, Peggy, and the kids were already packed, and Shuri’s parents offered to drive them to the airport, so all that was left to do was for Steve to pack and make sure they weren’t going to leave anything in the fridge to spoil.

Though the trip was for the kids, Bucky couldn’t help but look forward to it. He wasn’t a fan of crowds, but he would enjoy the smiles on the kids faces. Sam was meeting them there as well, and though Bucky would never admit it, he was looking forward to seeing him again, too. Mostly, he was glad that even Nat’s mood lifted considerably as the end of the week drew closer.

He looked up as the door opened, and the sheriff’s son stumbled in, looking a little panicked.

“You lose the lures again, kid?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before pointing him in the right direction. He would have laughed at the offended look the boy sent him, but his attention was caught by the laughter of two other kids standing in the doorway.

He saw the second boy’s lips moving, but he didn’t register his words. His focus was entirely on the girl smirking at the sheriff’s kid, who was now making his way toward the fishing section of the shop.

“Hey,” the other boy waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you alright?”

Bucky was snapped out of his trance, looking at the kid in front of him. “Huh?”

“You kinda look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“Scott,” you hissed. “That’s kinda rude.”

Scott grimaced, mumbling a feeble ‘sorry’. “I’m gonna go help Stiles.”

Bucky watched you watch Scott go, hoping his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. When you faced him, he took advantage of your close proximity to match your features to those of the little girl he missed so dearly.

The likeness was uncanny; too close to be a mere lookalike. At least, that’s what he hoped.

When you frowned at him, he realized you’d said something, and were waiting on a response. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if that was your bike outside,” you repeated, worry still etched on your face.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. “Oh, right, yes. Do… do you ride?” He sincerely hoped not, which he knew was a bit hypocritical.

“Nah, my dad won’t let me,” you lamented, your face relaxing again.

 _Dad?_ he wondered. _Who the hell is your ‘dad’?_

“Well, um, that’s good. They’re dangerous, ya know?” He chuckled nervously at the unimpressed look you gave him. “So you an enthusiast or somethin’?”

“Not really, I just have my favorites.”

“Oh? Do you drive at all?”

Bucky thought he might faint at the way your face lit up. “Yeah, I have a ’53 Skylark.”

He couldn’t believe it. “The yellow one?” he asked. They’d lived in town for about six months. For six months you’d been right under their noses.

“Mm-hm. She was a gift from my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” His voice grew more strained as the conversation continued. 

“Yeah, he fixed her up for me for my sixteenth.”

“No,” he blurted. You wouldn’t turn sixteen for another couple of months. When you frowned again, he tried to play off his outburst. “No way, that’s… that’s a great gift. My nephew has a Chevelle SS we’re fixing up.”

“Nice!”

He saw you cast a glance toward your friends, and became worried that you’d join them. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. “Yeah. Original parts aren’t as easy to find around here, though, so it’s uh, it’s slow going.”

“Have you tried Hale’s?” you asked, bringing your attention back to him. “They have a salvage yard behind the shop, and Peter’s always bringing in new stuff.”

Bucky actually hadn’t considered it, and made a mental note to check the place out. “You think they’ll have what I’m looking for?”

You considered his question and shrugged before pulling your phone from your pocket. “Only one way to find out.”

He watched you in awe as you scrolled through your contacts, barely registering the ringing until it stopped and a voice answered.

_“Hey, Beautiful. Are you back from your trip?”_

Bucky’s stomach tightened, and his heart broke a little at the way you smiled bashfully at your phone. He’d missed so much. You were so little when he’d last seen you, and now you were a young woman, possibly in love and with a life of your own.

“Not quite. Stiles lost his dad’s fishing stuff again, so we’re trying to replace what we can before heading home.” You giggled at the annoyed groan that came from the other end of the line, and Bucky bit back a sob at the sound of it. It was just like he remembered. “Yeah, anyway, I have someone here who’s looking for parts for a Chevelle Super Sport.”

_“What year?”_

You looked up at Bucky expectantly, and he had to swallow a few times before he found his voice. “1970.”

_“What do you need?”_

You smiled at Bucky, and he smiled back as he began listing the parts he needed. When the guy on the phone asked for his name to hold what parts were available for him, he watched you for any sign of recognition.

There was none.

The two boys ran up to the counter, placing handfuls of items down to be rung up. He didn’t catch the last bit of your conversation with your boyfriend, but he did manage to catch the odd looks the boys were giving him.

The sheriff’s son said something about not telling his dad, and Bucky agreed. He rung them up, quite carelessly, paying no mind to the items on the counter. He wouldn’t enjoy taking inventory later.

He didn’t care, though. The only thing that mattered was that you were about to walk out the door, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Duckling?” he whispered pleadingly. 

He wasn’t sure why he said it; a last ditch effort to get a reaction, he supposed. But you stopped. When you turned, you looked his way, but it was like you were seeing through him. The confusion on your face told him you didn’t know why you stopped, but he hoped deep down, part of you remembered.

“Y/N!” One of the boys called, pulling you from your thoughts. 

With a final wave at Bucky, you walked out and over to a blue jeep. He watched you climb into the back, missing the concerned looks the two boys exchanged.

He fought every instinct to run out and grab you and bring you home. To quell the feeling of dread at the possibility of losing you again, he reminded himself you lived in town, and unless your so-called ‘family’ moved, you shouldn’t be difficult to find.

 _Family_. His body filled with rage at the thought of the people who’d nearly destroyed his, happily pretending you were part of theirs. He stormed to the front door and locked it, flipping the ’OPEN’ sign over.

He pulled his phone out to make a call, and stared at it. Should he call the police, or should he call Steve first? Somehow, neither option sounded like it was the right move. He settled on a contact and dialed. When no one answered, he hung up and tried again. After the fifth time, he decided to leave a message.

“Sharon, I need you to drop everything and call me back _right now_. Don’t tell anyone, alright? I think I found her.” He took a deep breath, knowing it was going to be hard for them to keep it from the others. “Look, I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, and I need a second opinion. I need to be sure I’m not losin’ my mind here.”

* * *


End file.
